


There are plenty of emotions, peace is just one.

by Casta_X



Category: Star Wars Legends: Knights of the Old Republic (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-17 00:07:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 12,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28590762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Casta_X/pseuds/Casta_X
Summary: Nacinta Qiort - Jedi Guardian, one of the Jedi accompanying Bastilla, you could use her help.Revan knows she'll need a good cover story. Bastilla is not a jerk. And one Jedi Guardian escapes death a handful of times.Chapters <1000 words. I probably don't know how to use archive warnings.
Kudos: 1





	1. Arrogance (Valan)

**Author's Note:**

> Now if he made you cry oh I gotta know  
> If he's not ready to die, he best prepare for it  
> My judgment's divine I'll tell you who you can call,  
> You can call  
> You better call the police  
> Call the coroner  
> Call up your priest  
> Have them warn ya  
> Won't be no peace  
> When I find that fool  
> Who did that to you  
> -John Legend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now if he made you cry oh I gotta know  
> If he's not ready to die, he best prepare for it  
> My judgment's divine I'll tell you who you can call,  
> You can call  
> You better call the police  
> Call the coroner  
> Call up your priest  
> Have them warn ya  
> Won't be no peace  
> When I find that fool  
> Who did that to you  
> -John Legend

Valan, now adorned in the dark robes of the Sith and fresh facial tattoos, approached Nacinta and she was sure she was going to die on the metropolitan smuggler’s moon of Nar Shadaa because she had no chance of beating this Mirialan in a duel without assistance. Her Padawan Korunn was still undercover at the bar. _Perhaps it is the will of the Force that I face him alone, he could probably kill us both anyway._

“Oh don’t worry about your Padawan in the pazaak den,” Valan sneered, as if in direct response to her thoughts “there’s a Jedi-hunter out for him. You’re just in the way though. Too mediocre bother capturing and converting, but too much of an annoyance to simply let live. Your apprentice will finally be able to reach his full potential under the tutelage of another Mirialan.”

“Look, I have too many questions, and if I’m going to die anyway then you should have no trouble answering them, right? Who did this to you, one of these ‘Jedi-hunters’? What is a ‘Jedi-hunter’? And for that matter where is-”

“No, Nacinta. No-one did this to me, I chose this – to become more powerful than ever before. You will die by my hand, and I have no need to waste my time explaining things to you.”

“Not even to gloat?”

“Well, maybe to gloat a little.” he smirked

“Since you answered that one question then at least tell me what happened to Kellin?”

“No.” the smirk was quickly replaced with a look of irritation.

“What’s a Jedi-hunter?”

“No.” irritation became annoyance.

“Can we take this duel somewhere…” she vaguely gestured “… less… crowded?”

“No! Nacinta, we will not take this duel somewhere you may or may not have a trap set up. We will fight right here, in public, because this is real life!”

She was not going to give up, but to reduce collateral damage meant to fight ferociously to keep his attention on her. He was capable of anything now he was a Sith and she didn’t want innocent or even not-so-innocent (this was Nar Shadaa after all) bystanders to be killed or injured on her behalf.

_There is no death, there is the Force._ “So be it.” As she charged her blue lightsaber flashed to life.

In the brief steps it took to close the gap between them fragments of memories from time spent in sparring practice with other Guardians came to the front of her mind. Of punches pulled, saber swings that were stopped short, of blue-bladed practice sabers, and floor mats, and echoing laughter as self-aggrandising anecdotes were cut down with words as expertly as any wielded blade, and Valan (always Valan) emerged the unofficial ‘winner’ of every single ‘we-swear-it’s-not-another-tournament-it’s-just-practice’ because he was Mirialan, because he was better than every other Mirialan, and she had to admit that by Guardian standards went was a pretty mediocre duellist, and the Council suggesting to her a Mirialan Padawan was an odd recommendation – _can’t get distracted by that now, though_. She tried to remember his fighting style to better counter him, but he was too well versed in all styles. Makashi will be too obvious and he could counter that adroitly. Hell, her life was over anyway and if she could injure him in the process maybe he won’t be able to inflict his damage on too much of the galaxy. She decided on Juyo - he might not see that coming.

The ferocity as blue and red sabers clashed lived up to Nacinta’s hopes, but the fight dragged on as nothing she could muster was enough to best Valan. He was starting to look bored. Finally, distracted by a shimmer behind him she fell for one of his feints, forward onto one knee.  
“It’s good that you should kneel before me as I end your life, Nacinta, my skills are of course worthy of such respect. And if it’s any consolation that’s the best duelling I’ve ever seen from you.”

Her eyes met his eyes. If he was going to kill her he would have to look into her eyes to do it because if she couldn’t injure him physically then maybe she could injure him emotionally. Maybe a spark of their old friendship would be remembered and he could feel some remorse, maybe that would help him move away from the Dark, maybe…. but in his eyes she could see only malice, Force damn it.

Suddenly Valan’s eyes widened in shock, a piercing blue emerged from the front of his robes as Korunn’s stealth field generator powered down. _Which Sentinel had taught him that?_  
“No! No…” Lightsaber deactivated, Valan fell to his knees, bringing up blood with every small cough and gurling breath.

Nacinta reached forward to place a tender hand on Valan’s cheek “Real life will absolutely stab you in the back like that. I am sorry my friend.” Valan’s now desperate, fearful eyes searched her face. She shifted and twisted until she sat on the walkway with his head in her lap so she could maintain eye contact. “There is no more passion to be had, my friend, it’s time to give it away. There is no emotion, there is peace.” She quietly recited the Jedi code to him while stroking his hair until the gurgling stopped and all that was left of Valan in this life was a peaceful smile on his fresh corpse. He was one with the Force now. A sob formed in her mind, but she did not let it pass to her throat, instead she chose to wear a soft smile to match Valan’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AU Fic. Revan enlists help to craft a better cover story. Bastilla is not a jerk. And one Jedi Guardian escapes death a handful of times.  
> Chapters <1000 words.  
> I probably don't know how to use archive warnings.


	2. Discernnig (Oric)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now if he made you cry oh I gotta know  
> If he's not ready to die, he best prepare for it  
> My judgment's divine I'll tell you who you can call,  
> You can call  
> You better call the police  
> Call the coroner  
> Call up your priest  
> Have them warn ya  
> Won't be no peace  
> When I find that fool  
> Who did that to you  
> -John Legend

As Nacinta and Korunn searched the shipyards of Mon Cala for any sign of Kellin at the location of her last mission with Valan they were approached by a Chagrian and a Nautolan in the same dark robes Valan had on Nar Shadaa.

“A Knight and their Padawan, just like we were.” The elder Chagrian, offered. “You could both be free, you know, like us.” A hand was offered in a gesture that tried to imply not threat, though Nacinta didn't trust it.

_You both look terrible._ “Who did this to you? A Jedi-hunter?”

“No-one did this to us, we chose this, to become more powerful than ever before!” The younger Nautolan spoke with more passion. “We can show you, we can help you become more than you ever dreamed under the control of the Council!”

Nacinta shook her head. “How did the Sith get you? Were you captured by a Jedi-hunter like Valan? Who was it?”

“Valan? I am not familiar with that sentient. Yes, we were captured, or rather, Oric here was captured first, and when I went looking for him I too fell into their trap.”

Oric had initially opened his mouth as if to respond, but on the mention of his capture he closed his mouth as his tentacles twitched in an irritated fashion as if insulted. “We’re wasting our time here Master! They do not want what we are offering – let us end them instead!”

“Not necessarily my young apprentice,” the Chagrian raised his hand to silence the Nautolan “the Mirialan is yet to speak. What say you? I can already sense you readily form bonds with other sentients. This is something your Master will never understand, something the Jedi will never understand. Would you like to be free to see what relationships could develop out of those attachments? My species have a deep dislike for social injustice yet the Jedi move too slowly on such matters – would you like to do more to help the sentients of this galaxy?”

It was Nacinta’s turn to raise her hand to silence her Padawan before he could speak. “So who captured you? Was it one of those Jedi-hunting soldiers?”

The Chagrian’s expression lost much of the pretence of friendliness it previously held. “Yes, a human male with brown hair. I’m sorry, I have not much else to go on when describing humans. Regardless, this is irrelevant and I believe I asked your Padawan a question, not invited more questions from you.”

_It’s a start, a human Sith soldier with brown hair. Not much to go on, but better than nothing._ Nacinta did not lower her hand. “We serve the light. I don’t suppose we’re all leaving here today.” The hand she had not raised to silence Korunn, moved slowly behind her back, she gestured a quick plan – ‘you vs the Nautolan, me vs the Chagrian’.

The Chagrian eyed her coldly, “I suppose not.” He ignited his lightsaber – red like Valan’s.

As Nacinta charged to close the gap she wondered what colour his saber had been prior to his fall. It might have been green, the Force push he threw her way was particularly strong. He didn't wait for her to get up before turning to sprint in the opposite direction, leaving his apprentice alone. She closed the gap with a Force Jump which caught his left arm, cloth and tissue hanging uselessly. He turned around and attempted to Push her again but she managed to side-step his aim. A pained shout cut through the air. _Korunn?_

The Chagrian began to attack in a crazed fashion from the pain, but she had to ensure the safety of her Padawan. Emboldened by her recent victory-through-technicality against Valan she attempted the same feint. Her foe easily fell for the ruse, and stumbled as she had. The bright blue of her lightsaber flashed through the blue flesh of his shoulder, into his torso, and she left him to bleed out while she ran back to Korunn.

Korunn appeared to have a short gash across his chest matching a longer one in his robes which were beginning to stain with blood, he was going to lose without her intervention. Nacinta flanked the Nautolan. “Give up.” she hissed “Your Master has fallen and so will you if you stay this path.”

As a credit to his sensibility Oric immediately extinguished his red lightsaber, dropping it as he raised his hands in the air. “I yield.”

Korunn guarded the Nautolan while Nacinta arranged a water burial for the Chagrian with his belongings. She noted the twisted look of pain left on his face as he died alone in the Dark – _so different to that of Valan._

New captive loaded into their ship, they returned to Coruscant with no news of Kellin. In Nacinta’s mind frowning lips and knitted eyebrows formed, but she did not let them pass to her face. Instead, she chose a quietly peaceful smile.


	3. Animosity (Kellin)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now if he made you cry oh I gotta know  
> If he's not ready to die, he best prepare for it  
> My judgment's divine I'll tell you who you can call,  
> You can call  
> You better call the police  
> Call the coroner  
> Call up your priest  
> Have them warn ya  
> Won't be no peace  
> When I find that fool  
> Who did that to you  
> -John Legend

Nacinta didn’t manage to find Kellin, but considered it extremely lucky - _there is no luck, there is the Force_ – that Kellin found her instead. She out-paced Kellin through the sandy streets of Anchorhead, determined to lead her away from the market and potential bystander casualties. _Korunn will simply have to catch up, but Kellin likely won’t fight until she can be sure he will witness this._ Relief at seeing her Padawan’s older sister alive and physically well mingled with the disappointment of seeing her in Dark Jedi robes. Per tradition Kellin was aselected as Padawan by Valan due to them both being Mirialans, however when Korunn required a mentor there had been no available Mirialans. Nacinta could always sense Kellin’s unspoken disapproval, but held out hope Kellin would eventually mature into accepting the Council’s not-always-apparent-to-her-either wisdom.

Eventually she stopped running, and her hunch about Kellin was proven right when she was not immediately attacked – there was time for questions, though Kellin apparently reached the same conclusion first.

“Why is my brother so slow? Does he struggle this much due to your substandard training?”

“He was recently injured in a fight with a Dark Jedi. You know how they are, all ‘join us or die’, but no-one ever offers a middle ground option to do neither.”

“If it makes you feel better I won’t be putting the same choice to you. You will simply die. By my hand no less, and then I can show Valan that I have truly mastered his teaching.”

“Valan’s dead, Kellin.”

Kellin subtly flinched. “You lie!”

“Feel it in the Force, you know it’s no lie. He said the same thing you did, ‘die by his hand’ and all, but it wasn’t to be.”

“You, mediocre Guardian, beat Valan who is quite literally the best duellist of his cohort?!? No. That is definitely not true.”

“I didn’t say I killed him. Korrun did.”

Kellin smirked “Well maybe my brother has enough inherent Mirialan talent not to be held back by the likes of you after all, and if Valan was truly so weak as to lose to my younger brother then he deserved to die.”

“Kellin listen to yourself. You started this conversation eager to achieve something that would increase your esteem with Valan and now you’re celebrating his death. Can’t you see what the Dark Side has done to you? You look terrible!”

Korunn rounded the corner, and locked eyes on Kellin as if he couldn’t believe she was really right there – so close, after all this time struggling to control the fear of having lost her.

“Of course humans would be so preoccupied with frivolous things as appearance, we Sith only care for power. Valan proved he wasn’t enough, and my Masters will surely reward me for killing you and bringing in Korunn for our righteous cause! But I’m tired of the sound of your voice and your pathetic protests – it’s time for you to die.”

As it turned out, drawing on the Dark Side of the force did not make up for a lack of wisdom or experience. Although Kellin was as naturally gifted at duelling as one would expect for her species and having been trained by the best, she fell for the same feint Nacinta learned from Kellin’s own teacher.

On stumbling forward Nacinta hit her hand with a well-aimed kick that sent her lightsaber skidding behind her, and a second swift kick to the chest that sent her onto her back. The fight was almost disappointingly quick, but would hopefully serve as a valuable lesson for the head-strong Mirialan. She pointed her blade towards the Padawan’s neck.

“Yield, Kellin. I have no desire to kill you. Come back with us. You went to all of this trouble so you could spend more time with Korunn, and from that perspective you can still win if just come with us back to Coruscant. Look at Korunn. Help me protect him, Force knows I need help. But neither of us can protect him if he’s taken down that Dark path.”

Kellin’s face was defiant until she cast her eyes over to her younger brother, concern in his face and hand pressed to his chest where the faintest pain still lingered from his recent injury. “It’s not like I have a choice matter, really. You say the Sith are guilty of demanding ‘join us or die’, what about you?”

“No, you have a third choice - incarceration. But luckily for you the Jedi don’t commit war crimes against their prisoners. Korunn, help me get her back to the ship.” In her mind an ear-to-ear grin formed, ( _I might even pick up Mirialan tradition and get a facial tatoo to celebrate, ha ha_ ) but Nacinta did not let it pass to her lips. She chose instead a serious, yet peaceful smile.


	4. Seeking (Nacinta)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now if he made you cry oh I gotta know  
> If he's not ready to die, he best prepare for it  
> My judgment's divine I'll tell you who you can call,  
> You can call  
> You better call the police  
> Call the coroner  
> Call up your priest  
> Have them warn ya  
> Won't be no peace  
> When I find that fool  
> Who did that to you  
> -John Legend

Nacinta sat with Master Vash to review the intel.

There was hope for Oric Edestus, that he might one day return to being a Padawan. He and Bugh Daalyai, his late master, had been captured by ‘Jaq’, a human male with brown hair. Kellin (whose return to the light was going slower than Oric's), and likely Valan, were captured by a Twi'lek female, 'Nula' who Oric had encountered at the Dark side nexus where he was converted. Although she had been Sensitive and was willing to open herself up to the Force to be Adept at its use, her skill had fallen short with so little training and support - she was executed for not having lived up to expectations of her masters.

“So this ‘Jaq’ is probably in danger too.”

“Probably. Although while he is free he is not the only one in danger.”

“I could do a lot of good if I got the opportunity to show him what they were doing. Rescue him and however many Jedi he was going to take out along the way.”

“I would like to remind you to be careful, but I suspect that your plan relies on you not being so.”

“Master Vash, you know me too well.”

*

Nacinta’s agreement with Vash was that she would check in weekly, and be given only the name of the next planet or moon she would travel to, but no details about which Jedi were there or what their mission involved at all. If she should be captured and turned there was less risk for her colleagues. It made it difficult to be certain she could be in the right place at the right time, but she trusted in the Will of the Force.

A month later she and Korunn were bar-hopping separately on Jedha through the various cantinas to maximise their ability to search, scanning the thoughts of the other patrons for anything that seemed out of place. In her third bar on the fifth evening she noted a human male with brown hair who was still counting Pazaak cards in his head as he waited for his drink. _Odd._ She nursed her own drink while staring at him intently. He continued to count cards on his way back to the table, and in between rounds of Pazaak. She sidled up to the card table.

“Sister, you’ve been watching me clean up for a while now. Are you here for the challenge or just starstruck?”

“I don’t often lose, but I could stand losing once in a while to a handsome face like yours. What’s the wager?”

“I’ll give you one game, how about it? 100 credits?”

Kriff. That was more than he’d hustled the others out of, and a lot considering her stipend. The intrigued and sultry look on her face however didn’t falter. “That’s quite steep. I don’t suppose there’s some other way I’ll be able to repay you when I lose?”

“I’m sure I can think of something.”

She kept her focus on his thoughts - he continued to count cards and focus on his own, but he played his real hand too early – there’s no way he counted a minus-four in his head, if only she’d hung around closer to the table earlier she might have seen his cards. _Either he has too many cards, (very possible, Pazaak players are all cheaters,) or he’s thinking about the wrong cards._ For that matter, she never did discover how he was cheating when reading his surface thoughts earlier and _there’s no way he wasn’t with all of those wins in a row,_ always careful to move on to someone new after just one or two hands.

It became clear as the rounds progressed that the cards in his hand had no correlation to the cards in his mind – _at least I know what cards he doesn’t have._ Whatever advantage that knowledge might have given her, it was outstripped by the large advantage given by Jaq’s preferred cheating method. “Well, that was a very stimulating game, my friend.” She reached into her purse and drew out 75 credits “I know the wager was for 100, but I don’t have all of that on me right now. Perhaps you can tell me where you’ll be in a week? I will have your 25 credits owed, and 100 for another game.”

He eyed her suspiciously. “If you promise you’re good for it I can meet you back here at the same time in a week.”

“I look forward to it. You’re going to have to give me a name though, otherwise I’m just going to have to label you in my thoughts as ‘that handsome man from the cantina’.”

“Jaq.”

Nacinta stood up and moved behind him, lightly tracing a hand across the back of one shoulder to the next before leaning forward to murmur in his ear “Well then, ‘handsome Jaq from the cantina’, I look forward to seeing you next week.”

On return to her ship she sent a coded message to Master Vash. Whoever Jaq was originally stalking on this planet would be gone by morning. The question remaining was whether Jaq would leave soon after, or if he was suspicious enough of her to change his target. At least she knew exactly what he looked like now. It was a small win. In her mind she imagined a celebratory smile, but chose not to wear it. 


	5. Foolhardy (Nacinta)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now if he made you cry oh I gotta know  
> If he's not ready to die, he best prepare for it  
> My judgment's divine I'll tell you who you can call,  
> You can call  
> You better call the police  
> Call the coroner  
> Call up your priest  
> Have them warn ya  
> Won't be no peace  
> When I find that fool  
> Who did that to you  
> -John Legend

The following evening Korunn attended the bar Nacinta had met Jaq, but he saw no-one matching his description the entire evening.

“He might have already left?”

“Maybe, but the offer to meet next week is our most promising lead so far.”

Nacinta spent the remainder of the week in various pazaak dens in the city. Korunn watched from a distance for any Jei-hunters while Nacinta focussed on the players in front of her. She skimmed their surface thoughts for strategy, ways to cheat, and ways to detect cheaters. She was careful not to win too many games in a row, but by the day of her arranged meeting with Jaq she had amassed a small fortune of a few thousand credits. She kept most of them on a chip safe with Korunn, who arrived at the bar separately.

“Good evening, ‘Handsome Jaq’.” She flashed a convincing smile, but the fact that Jaq bothered showing up had implications for her safety. He surely wasn’t stupid enough to not realise that his original mark had left the planet. _Am I his target now?_

“Good evening, ‘attractive woman from the cantina’.” He flashed a smile to match.

“'Attractive', I like that”

“Alright ‘Attractive woman’, care to lose more credits?”

She passed him a chip with 125 credits “Consider this my payment for last week’s game, and the wager I will lose on this week’s game.”

“But we haven’t played it yet. You might win.” Jaq shrugged.

“Oh please Handsome Jaq, I watched you the entire night last week, you did not lose a single game, that’s why you never played anyone more than twice. I’m keen to figure out how you did it so I can replicate it.”

“Why not just say so, I might teach you if you ask nicely. Or I might raise the wager for our game.”

“You cheat at Pazaak, you can’t be trusted.”

“That is an allegation for which you have no evidence.”

“Yet. For now I’d rather pretend to be just another woman flirting at the Pazaak champion.”

“So you’re admitting you can’t be trusted either?”

“Either? Handsome Jaq, that sounds like you admitting you can’t be trusted.”

“Maybe I can’t. I’d never admit it, though.”

After disappointingly few games during which he continued to count the wrong cards in his head, interspersed with a handful of vivid imaginings of certain base lusts, during which she was still unable to figure out how he was able to win so consistently, he turned to her. “Attractive woman, I believe it’s your turn to lose. The wager is 125 credits.”

“125? Are you suggesting you’ll be back next week for the rest of my money?”

“Maybe I just like the jealous looks I get from other patrons with you hanging around.”

“Lucky me. Very well Handsome Jaq. 125 credits it is.”

She lost. Again. Damn it Jaq, _how did he do it_?

“I think I might call it here and have an early night. If you want to keep up the charade of flirting with the champion, perhaps you’d care to leave with me?”

Nacinta sensed the danger but agreed anyway. Korunn would not be far behind. Jaq slipped a hand around her waist and led her from the bar. They walked in cool evening air to a narrow two-storey townhouse.

“This is your place?”

“It’s where I’m renting while on Jedha. If you don’t mind I’d like to go inside and clean up a little first, you can come inside in just a moment.” He kissed the back of her hand before disappearing indoors.

In moments Korunn was next to her. “This feels like a trap.”

“I know, but I think we have the advantage of knowing it’s a trap, and him being unaware that there are two of us.”

“We don’t know that.”

“We have to trust the Force.”

“And it’s telling you to go inside? Reckless.”

On opening the door, Nacinta noted the first floor was bereft of furniture. There were stairs leading up to the second storey, and a set of stairs leading to a basement. “Jaq?”

The sound of his voice floated up from the basement. “Nearly all set up.”

She nodded at Korunn before rushing down the stairs, perhaps she could get the jump on Jaq before he finished setting up his trap. Two steps into the basement she realised her mistake. The room was empty except for a wireless speaker. He had all week to ensure the trap was ready, there was no need for last minute set-up. Before Korunn could pass through the doorway she sent a Force Push to knock him back. “Run!”

The door slammed shut automatically. A hissing noise emanated from a pipe in the ceiling. As gas flooded the room Nacinta cursed her lack of Breath Mask or practice with Breath Control. She could hear Korunn on the other side of the door attempting to cut through with his lightsaber but it appeared to be made of Durasteel and likely it would take too long for him to avoid capture also. She used the last of the air in her lungs to scream again for Korunn to run. As she was forced to breathe in again the world went dark. _Way to go, Nacinta._

When consciousness returned Nacinta first noticed the cold. She was strapped to a table, stripped to her undergarments. She thought of Korunn, _still just a kid really_ , and hoped that her recklessness hadn’t cost his freedom also. The second thing she noticed about the large room was that it was dark, and the third was that she was not alone – there was one other sentient in here with her, and although she couldn’t see them properly, she felt she had a good idea of who it was.

“Jaq?”

The answer (‘correct’) came in the form of electroshocks.

In her mind a scream was formed from pure pain, but she could not prevent it from passing to her throat.


	6. Wrathful (Jaq)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for this and the next chapter about depictions of violence.

The electroshocks continued mercilessly. Nacinta screamed all of the air out of her lungs and as the decibels trailed off the shock-stick was removed, placed in a new random location on her body the moment she’d managed to draw in a breath. There was no time for recovery, only screaming and inhaling. She was dizzy from the hyperventilation. At any given moment part of her body felt as if on fire, while the rest ebbed and throbbed painfully as it tried to recover from the insult. The base of her neck, then her right arm, then her left flank, left knee, stomach, left flank again… there was no pattern to it, no way to prepare for whichever part of her body would seize up and quite frankly sizzle next. She smelled her burnt flesh and focussed on pushing her building nausea away. After what felt like hours she passed out.

Disorientation, nausea, and claustrophobia crowded her when she eventually roused. She was now in some kind of mask that was suppressing her connection to the Force. A cannula had been inserted into her right arm, attached to an intravenous line connected to a few bags of unknown fluids. The nausea built but she couldn’t sit up, couldn’t roll onto her side. She vomited. The contents of her stomach could not escape the edges of the mask fast enough and it seeped into her eyes, her nose, back into her mouth threatening to drown her. She squeezed her eyes shut and struggled to breathe through the vomit as she continued to dry-retch.

Her nose burned, her eyes burned, her mouth burned, her skin and muscles still burned from the earlier torture. The retching gave way to coughing as the vomitus that trickled into her lungs was rejected by them, but the strong bout of coughing only increased her nausea. She alternated between retching and coughing, with each bout slowly losing intensity before she lay exhausted on the cold hard table drawing in uneven breaths. As she settled she spat out as much vomit as she could, it trickled out the side of the mask over her face. Her breathing became more regular and she tried to reach through her bond to Korunn, but with her connection to the Force suppressed there was nothing. _Korunn, still just a kid… just a kid... have I killed him with my recklessness?_ It hurt not knowing. Everything hurt.

“How does it feel?”

Nacinta slowly turned her head towards the origin of the sound, blinking her eyes a few times to try and clear them. She hadn’t been able to sense him in the room, but there he was… “Jaq.”

“Not ‘Handsome Jaq’? I suppose that was just another easy lie for you. Jedi always tell the truth, except when they don’t, which is so surprisingly often I’m surprised the phrase isn’t ‘Jedi always lie’. How does it feel to know your lies have caused you to wind up here?”

“Jaq, everyone lies at the Pazaak table.”

“But not everyone reads the other players’ minds.”

“I had to find you, to save you. You’re in danger.”

“It seems to me, sister, that the person in danger is you, because you are tied up to the table, and I am real pissed at the attitude you displayed, waltzing around violating probably everybody's minds because you think you’re so superior. I am not in danger. I am hungry, like you must be since you last ate close to 24 hours ago. I am going to leave you here while I go and eat. Enjoy meditating on that!”

“Jaq stop, I know you’re a Jedi-hunter but you’re in danger from the Sith themselves!”

He didn’t turn as he continued to stroll towards the door, a dismissive wave given over his shoulder the only sign he'd heard her. The door to the large, dark room slammed shut. A few moments later a small red light turned on in one corner – likely a from surveillance camera. She shivered. Her leg cramped. Her stomach growled. She waited. Hours. It was so cold she could barely fall into restless sleep.

The next day, or as far as Nacinta could tell night and day in this place without seeing the sky, Jaq did not retun. About halfway through the day the alarm sounded on the intravenous pump, but the display had been turned away from her so she couldn’t work out how long she had been there from the rate of infusion and volume of the bags.

She tried to meditate to the regular sound of the alarm blaring painfully in her right ear, but every creak and groan of the building she was in _must be above-ground here_ interrupted her attempts to settle into any rhythm, and with no connection to the Force she had nothing to draw on but her own exhaustion. _With the mask on no-one can see my face anyway. Maybe that's why Revan wears one constantly._ She couldn’t cry, couldn’t afford to lose the moisture. She frowned instead.


	7. Wavering (Jaq)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for this and the previous chapter about depictions of violence.

Drained from lack of food, and now lack of fluid, and missing her connection to the Force, Nacinta missed Jaq creep back into the room. She failed to notice the silencing of the intravenous pump alarm, or him standing over her. She did notice something sharp graze up her bare foot.

Jaq held up his palm to reveal a kubotan which he quickly slammed into her left upper thigh. She screamed. He replied by slamming the kubotan into the right side of her chest. A small crack rang out. Nacinta’s breathing returned to the previous uneven pattern.

“Jaq…. Nula…” her throat was dry.

Before she could expound Jaq slammed his fist into the same side of her chest as he’d just hit. “Were you the one who killed her!?” he screamed in her face as he followed up with a punch to the same site.

She coughed up some blood. “No… killed by… Sith.”

“Jedi lies. Why would the Sith kill her?”

“I met… Dark Jedi,… Nautolan... you captured… taken to... Unknown Regions... met Nula… where Revan... takes all Jedi to be converted… in between... tortures… saw her... execution… not enough... mastery... of the Force.”

Jaq considered this information for a minute. “Oh yeah? And tell me, was this Nautolan travelling with anyone when you met them?”

“Chagrian. Older.”

Jaq’s expression darkened as Nacinta continued.

“You saw… Malachor… not beneath… Revan.”

“Nula was especially talented. I am sure I am in no danger. The person in danger here is still you.” 

“Nula talented… still executed… what will happen... when they take... you?”

Jaq had no response other than to slam the kubotan into the side of her left knee twice in quick succession, before casting it aside, punching her in the stomach, then storming off. Nacinta was begrudgingly grateful for the lack of any food in there for her to vomit.

Jaq returned after some time with a shiny tool that looked like a roller meat tenderiser. “I think it’s more likely that you killed Nula, and for that you will pay. You know they say that the parts of the human body that feel pain most severely are the fingertips and the scalp. I’ve never questioned that before, but I look forward to finding out with you."

He quickly whacked the implement into her upper left thigh where the kubotan had hit earlier in the day. She let out a groan. “65 decibels” he read off a meter, “that’s just a normal conversational level. I hear screaming is about 110 decibels, but I think you can do better than that.”

He ran the spiked roller up the bottom of her foot. She clamped her mouth shut and let out a whimper only. “55 decibels. Alright, the feet are no good.”

He lay her right hand flat against the table and pressed straight down. Her scream came out choked by her dry throat and residual vomit. “I reckon that would have been a good one if your vocal cords were in proper working order.”

He pulled out a bottle with a straw which he pushed under the mask. She didn’t open her mouth, but he forced the straw in just the same and squeezed the bottle. _Better that I die drowning than live and risk falling_ , but she was too weak to overcome her own reflexes, coughing and spluttering she began to drink.

“Alright, let’s try that again.” The instrument came down sharply on the top of her scalp. Jaq took a step back at the intensity of her scream, pleased at the intensity of the response. “114 decibels, my dear I think you’ve done it!” He congratulated sarcastically. He took off the mask. “Now that we've confirmed that the scalp is the most sensitive, I want to see your face while you suffer more pain than you could have ever imagined before today.”

The Force came back to her with a surge and she focussed her attention directly into Jaq’s eyes. Their minds connected and she let him in to her thoughts. _You are in danger Jaq. I am too weak to save you, you must save us both._ His mind opened up to hers, to the Force. He felt it like a distant echo through a canyon but at once he had the barest of connections… to the entire galaxy. It was too much. Too much pain.

“You’re… you’re crawling into my head again!”

_Save me Jaq. Your Masters are on their way to collect me, I know. I either die now or will be consumed by the Dark, then the deaths won’t just stop with me but with everyone who dies by my hand in the Dark. Who I am now would already be dead. Save me - kill me. And then save yourself._

Silent tears poured as he brushed his hand down her cheek to her neck. The other hand joined it and they closed around her airway. He could tell she was trying not to struggle. Impossibly, she smiled at him, crinkles formed at the edge of her eyes. “Proud of you” she mouthed at him, so incredibly proud as the pain ebbed away, replaced by a familiar growing nothingness.

*

Nacinta noticed that she was not cold for the first time in days. She was covered in a blanket, no longer strapped to the table and the mask remained off. Her neck ached. So did everything else. _I'm alive._ She struggled to hold back her disappointment. Jaq had failed. She had failed.

The room was still dark, but she wasn’t alone. “Jaq?” Her voice was so hoarse, barely a whisper after having been choked. “I’m still here.” Despair crept in with the disappointment. She shoved them both away. “It’s okay. You did your best. You can still save yourself.”

“Only some of those statements are true.” It was Revan.

After the days she’d just been through Nacinta struggled to remove her emotions, the defiant glare from her mind found a home on her face.


	8. Obligation (Revan)

Revan moved over to Nacinta laying on the table, removing a glove she placed a hand on Nacinta’s shoulder. More warmth spread through her as the Lord of the Sith began healing. “It’s a shame that Jaq won’t reach his full potential during my war. He will scurry away into nothingness, change his identity, and hide with his shame until the Force calls on him to atone for what he has done. His destiny lies beyond this one into the next - a quiet war between Sith and Jedi that I do not take part in, although I am uncertain why not. Only this much do I sense. The future is an ever-changing possibility, but I fear my war will not conclude how I intended.”

Eventually the warmth receded, Revan replaced her gloves before furnishing Nacinta with the Force shield visor, dark robes and… a lightsaber. “Try not to vomit when you put that on. It’s important that no-one sees your face, so untouched by the Dark. The flight crew with me all have no connection to the Force, they will be unable to sense you remain a servant of the light.” Revan turned her back and began to walk away. “We leave when you are dressed.”

Nacinta’s joints ached as she stretched, gradually pulling on her new robes. It would have been preferable for Revan to have killed her – _why heal me_?

As she stepped out of the door a Sith officer saluted “Master Chaal, I trust you had a productive time torturing Jedi. Shame this one had to be put down like a dog. Lord Revan is keen to leave immediately, I will lead you to our ship.”

Nacinta, unsure how to respond to that, just stared through her mask at the woman. Her right hand twitched in their new gloves as her recovering muscles spasmed. The eyes of the officer darted to the movement and back to her masked face before she took a step back and bowed “I meant no disrespect Master Chaal, please!”

Nacinta had no choice but to play along through her disorientation and nausea. She rasped out a “Very well.” and followed the woman through the streets of a planet that was definitely not Jedha. She stood as tall as she could muster, stiff shoulders back, and tried not to limp. It was thankfully a short walk only to the end of the street, and the citizens averted their gaze and scurried away at the sight of them. Once onboard the officer excused herself to sit with the pilot. “Lord Revan has requested privacy for your strategy discussions.”

Nacinta was left in a small plush room with two couches, a table with a variety of exotic beverages between them. The occupant of the furthest chair waived a hand towards the empty seat. “You may take your mask off for now, they will not bother us until I comm them.”

Cautiously she edged towards the seat and removed the mask. Questions raged through her mind but it was easier now to keep her face blank. Revan chuckled. “Although I haven’t seen you since Alek and I first left for Dantooine, I see all that practice you were putting in during our time in the creche on Coruscant paid off Nacinta Qiort, or should I say ‘Visona Chaal’. I will give you free reign to make up whatever story you wish for your new identity, you will need the practice.”

Finally, one question burned to the front, though she was afraid of the answer. “Korunn?” it hurt both physically and emotionally to ask.

Revan nodded with understanding. “Your Padawan escaped Jaq's trap. I do not know where they are.”

With her returning connection to the Force she sensed no deception. Relief swept through her, offsetting the pain of talking. “Lightsaber? No collar?”

The Sith Lord laughed at that one “Do you really think yourself in a fit state to pose any threat to me? I could hand you my very own lightsaber and I would still not fear you as you are now. I have yours, by the way. None of my Jedi carry blue lighstabers, you will carry a red one from now on.”

“Normal conversion process?”

“I think you know the answer to that one. No. It would have been a waste for Jaq to kill you, but you were successful in goading him into it. By my intervention he felt you ‘die’, blubbered on the floor for a while, then bolted out of there. You are alive because I chose you to be. You owe me a life debt, and what I remember of you gives me confidence that you will honour it. You will be spared a trip to the conversion facilities.”

“Why?”

“I do not fight this war for bloodlust. I fight because the Republic needs to be unified under one banner, and the strongest banner is mine. At least, it should be. I have tried opening myself up to the Force many times for guidance, seeking visions, but none came until recently. I have seen two events, the first is my betrayal by Malak. This will occur while I am confronted by a Jedi strike team led by Padawan Shan on the bridge of the Relentless, my flagship. He will strike at me from afar and all in my vicinity will be in danger. The second vision is more troubling – I, dressed in the robes of the Jedi and again wielding a green lightsaber, along with Padawan Shan, and a brown-haired man with whom I will share a close bond but do not yet recognise, will be confronted by Malak in the hangar level of an Interdictor class ship, and he will explain to us how amusing he finds it that the Jedi Council wiped my mind and replaced it with a new identity instead of just killing me.”

Nacinta’s face remained neutral despite feeling somewhat overwhelmed at the turn events were taking.


	9. Orchestrating (Revan)

In the lounge of her private shuttle Revan continued “I have no more visions, can sense no more about myself after my future meeting with Malak, including if I survive…” she paused, then poured a glass of fluourescent orange liquid for her guest. “What I do is important, and the Force is finally guiding me again. This is where I need your help – I highly doubt any of the Masters would willingly set me free regardless of what I do or do not remember. You must take on the role of ‘Master Visona Chaal’ for now, if I cannot win this war I need to preserve as many Jedi as possible. My Jedi-hunters will hand them over to you, and you will whisk whoever you can to safe havens to wait out this war. Drug them if you must. Neural collars. Whatever it takes. On the day of Malak’s betrayal you are to ensure Padawan Shan’s safe delivery to the bridge - protect her from being collateral damage so that she has the strength to save me. Convince the Masters to give me a second chance at a new life, a new identity, and ensure I reach the hangar level of the Interdictor class ship with the right people. This is what the Force asks of me. On your life debt this is what I command of you.”

While Nacinta’s thoughts flicked to all of the brown-haired men she knew, she drew a long sip of her sour smelling beverage, immediately distracted from her list by her soothing throat. “And... that's all you have seen of it.”

“That is correct.”

“You are asking me to guide you to your possible death?”

“If the Force wills.”

“That doesn’t sound very Sith-like.”

“Do you forget I was once a Jedi like you, with you even, as younglings on Coruscant. There is no death..” Revan started

“…there is the Force” they finished in unison, before sitting in silence for some time.

Nacinta’s thoughts returned to brown-haired men, and eventually settled on Korunn. _He forms bonds with others so easily, is it him? Still a child though… No, I suppose he is a man now_ she finally admitted. _Such destiny the Force has burdened by Padawan with._

Her thoughts returned to the present. She could sense Revan meditating. _I possibly could kill her now… but for the Will of the Force..._ She thought better of it, finished her drink, and began meditating also.

The ship had docked for some time before either stirred. “The crew are waiting for my signal, none would dare interrupt.” Revan explained. “You must wear your mask at all times from now on, lest someone sense you are not who we say you are.” She pressed a button in her chair, the comm crackled and the crew began to move in response to her orders. “This crew is now yours. I do not know how long until Malak betrays me, and we might not meet again beforehand, so the last thing I have to say is…” Revan drew herself up to her full height which, although not tall, was imposing due to her sheer presence of person “…do not fail me.”

*

True to her word, Revan’s Jedi-hunters reported to ‘Master Chaal’ after their missions, handing over captured Jedi. She played the part of over-zealous Sith and ‘killed’ several of her prisoners, the little Force she could control while in the mask used to fool her co-workers.

She postured and made sinister remarks to her crew to keep them constantly nervous around her, voluntarily twitching her hand from time to time, since the crew perceived such an action to be laced with threats as Lieutenant Otton had on their first meeting.

Nacinta selected an uninhabited world to serve as her “personal graveyard to celebrate her victories over these foolish and weak Jedi”. Her crew remained on the Relentless for each trip she made, ("I will share my celebration with no-one.") Jedi safely tucked in body bags where no-one would see their neural collar or the fact that they were still breathing.

Each time she dropped one off in grassland by the coast with a bag of supplies, she tore the collars away and retreated quickly towards her ship with a single “Sorry!” shouted over her shoulder as the Jedi orientated themselves to their surroundings. She re-landed the ship on the next continent each trip to spend some time alone out of her mask, and to meditate on her actions - cautious that despite her good intentions the Dark might still creep up and claim her.

*

In the span of just 6 weeks 4 Jedi had been rescued. _They will be capable of fending for themselves once those supplies are exhausted._ If the Jedi-hunters were suspicious of her wasting their hard work with a high rate of failed conversions, they had no time to voice it before Visona Chaal was summoned to Revan’s quarters. “It’s today.”

“How do you know?”

“I leaked my position to the Republic fleet.”

_Practical._ “What are my orders?”

“Come with me to the Brigg. I will short out the cameras, kill all the guards, and you will get changed and remain in a cell. They will come to rescue you, the leaked message included the prisoner manifest, with your name added. Your lightsaber is in the prisoner possessions lock-up. I have only one last thing for you before you undertake my task - your future likely contains a run-in with Malak if you are to ensure I will meet him in the hangar level of an Interdictor-class ship. He will stop briefly if you tell him ‘Vitiate’. That may give you an opportunity to escape, there is no need for us both to die on that day. But you must use it only once, and you must not repeat it to anyone else. On your life debt I order you.”

“What does it mean?”

“Malak knows what it means. Remember, ‘Vitiate’, once only.”


	10. Obedient (Nacinta)

Nacinta concentrated on her task. All going according to plan, she would not see Revan as she was again after today. ‘Saraea Degan’ would take her place and Nacinta focussed on mentally crafting possible backstories for this woman... from Deraalia. Something that would be acceptable to the Jedi Masters and to ‘Seraea’ as an adequate explanation for her capabilities and how she wound up amongst the Jedi with no memories.

As the next shift of guards had just arrived, she heard shouts, blaster fire and the unmistakable hum of a lightsaber in the corridor. A green Twi’lek with a growing crowd of rescued prisoners burst into her cell block. “Are you Nacinta Qiort? I am Deesra Luur Jada, here with a strike team of Jedi. You have been missing for several weeks now.”

“I only arrived on this ship yesterday” _half-truth_ “and I am yet to be interrogated since arriving in the Brigg,” _truth_ “but I was tortured before my arrival.” _Truth._ “I have recovered somewhat and am not so injured as to be of no help to you with your escape.” _Truth. Keep as much truth as possible in what you say, settle for half-truths before outright lies…_

“We are not in the escape phase of our plan.” He unlocked her cell and whispered in her ear “This may be a suicide mission. We are here to capture Darth Revan.”

“After everything I have suffered in her name, count me in.”

In the prisoner possessions lock up she searched for her clothes and lightsaber but they weren’t there as Revan had said they’d be _perhaps she was too busy orchestrating events today for that detail, or maybe the civilian clothes I was captured in were no longer fit for wear_. She settled for the set of robes confiscated from one of the female Jedi she’d hidden away. They were a good fit, and at least there was a lightsaber in the personal effects. She rushed back to Deesra Lur who shepherded them to catch up to a strike team making their way through the Bridge.

“The prisoners have been liberated Bastilla. There was indeed a Jedi amongst them, and she is capable of fighting.” As he finished his sentence Nacinta threw her new lightsaber at one of the Sith soldiers firing on the group to discover that it was purple.

“Garan, Mient”

“Yes, ma’am!” two Republic officers replied without ceasing their blaster fire.

“You take the rescued civilians to the ship. Secure it for our return. Check in with us regularly - if we have all been killed or captured you are to leave us behind.”

“Yes ma’am!”

*

When the strike team burst onto the Bridge they were down to three soldiers. Two soldiers immediately began to be Force choked by Dark Jedi. Nacinta cut one down with a Force jump and threw her lightsaber at the other, distracting him enough to let go of the soldier. Bastilla was on him in a flash. Deesra Lur and Nacinta dragged the unconscious solders off the Bridge as yellow saber sliced through dark cloth and then flesh. Deesra and Nacinta dragged the unconscious soldiers back off the Bridge.

Revan was now alone. She choked the sole remaining Republic officer in a show of frustration.

“You cannot win, Revan” Bastilla did her best to sound confident with two other knights backing her up.

Nacinta rushed back onto the Bridge in time to see Revan Force push them all back. She focussed on easing Bastilla’s landing as incoming fire from the Leviathan heralded explosions that rang out across the Bridge. Bastilla was the only Jedi standing. 

“She’s dying” Nacinta gasped out, fresh shrapnel wound in her already injured left leg.

“What?” Bastilla tried to take in the sudden change in her surroundings.

Nacinta slowly pulled herself up to her feet, grabbed Bastilla’s hand and pulled her towards the Sith Lord “In the Force, you can feel it, she’s slipping away, along with everything she knows that might help us end this Sith threat! Only you have the strength left to save her!”

Bastilla glanced around to where her other Jedi were picking themselves up off the floor and marvelled that the Force should chose her, of all of them, to remain standing. “I am not that experienced with healing, but I will try.” Hands shaking, Bastilla removed Revan’s mask. A trickle of blood ran down the unconscious woman’s forehead, more seeped onto the floor from her back, her breathing was shallow. Bastila focussed all of her attention on preserving the dwindling spark of life inside her enemy.

Adrenaline started to wear off and the pain in Nacinta’s left leg returned with fresh vengeance. She limped off to place Revan’s mask on a charred corpse.

Bastilla eventually inhaled sharply “That’s the best I can do. We must hurry.” The remaining 5 Jedi and 2 soldiers in the strike team huddled together and hobbled as a group out their waiting craft, carrying their unconscious prisoner.

Once on board the shuttle Republic officer Garan eyed Darth Revan's limp form suspiciously. “Who is that?”

Nacinta started before anyone else got the chance. “Another Jedi prisoner of the Sith." _Lie,_ she kept track. “She is near-dead, we will need some time to heal her, I fear this will require the intervention of Master Jedi.” _Truth._

Garan shrugged and left to co-pilot for Mient. The other Jedi assisted the injured soldiers and liberated prisoners out of ear shot.

Bastilla rounded on Nacinta “What was that about?” she hissed quietly

Nacinta eyed her seriously “The Republic can’t know that we have Revan, we have to get her to the Jedi immediately. There’s no way the Republic would allow the Jedi to keep her, and we may lose the opportunity to find out what she knows… if any of her mind remains after being so close to death. It was fortunate that none of the surviving soldiers saw what happened on that Bridge.”

Bastilla’s eyes widened as she realised the gravity of the situation she had been asked to create.


	11. Fearful (Nactinta)

Safely aboard Challenger, Admiral Forn Dodona’s Hammerhead-class ship, Nacinta insisted that the Jedi, who had selflessly focussed on healing the soldiers and civilians be given time together with their unconscious ‘comrade’ to focus on healing her and themselves.

In their private quarters Nacinta addressed the strike team – Bastila, Raynar, Dann and Deesra Lur. “We have to get our story straight for the Republic, but tell the Council everything as soon as we arrive on Coruscant.”

“Coruscant’s too far,” Deesra Lur spoke up “we are returning to Dantooine, it will take the better part of a day.”

“Dantooine...” Nacinta heard Vrook Lamar and Vandar Tokare were often there when they weren’t on Coruscant. She was only vaguely familiar with Zhar Lestin, and had never heard of Dorak Kinoda. “Regardless, I think we need to continue our efforts to heal this one, to ensure she remembers something useful.”

Bastila flinched. “I… I am afraid.” The confidence she’d displayed a few hours ago in front of a combat-ready Revan had dissipated in the presence of the now comatose Sith Lord. “I am not very good at healing… Swept up in the moment on the Bridge I had to open my mind to her to keep her alive. Her injuries were so severe... I do not want to do so again.”

“Are you alright? What did you see?”

“Nothing, just… emptiness… and an echo of Darkness. I do not know that she has any memories that could help us.” Bastila heaved a sigh and straightened her shoulders back “But I will continue to do my best. I will not allow an unconscious prisoner to die.”

Nacinta felt Bastila’s fear and resolve. _Nothingness… what if the Council doesn’t see that as worth saving?_ She went to push the fear aside. _...No. I trust in the Force, but I will use my fear to cover my motivations, to convince them of Revan’s plan as my own… There’s no way they would accept it if they knew it was hers._

*

Bastila had let her fear be known to the Masters immediately. She wished to be able to distance herself from the Sith Lord – feeling through her unintentional new bond as though she was rubbing against a fading Darkness. But Darkness nonetheless. Her request was granted. Raynar and Dann were going to be posted on Hammerhead-class cruiser Endar Spire, and she was welcome to join them to use her battle meditation to aid the Naval fleet again.

Nacinta stayed silent in the back as those headed to the Spire filtered out after their debriefing. The four Masters and Deesra Lur remained. Nacinta kept a crafted look on her face, as though staring through the unconscious body, as if it were transparent and something deeply traumatic lay on the other side from which she could not tear her vision. She dredged up the memory of watching Valan die, and felt the pain that the moment truly deserved but which she denied herself at the time.

“It is unlike you to have such trouble letting go of your suffering, Nacinta.” It was Vrook.

 _Can he tell?_ She embraced the fear. “Yes, Master Vrook.”

“There is no need to be afraid of this one, such as she is.” Dorak took the bait.

“It is not her current form I fear, but what she may be in the future.” _Truth._

“And what would you do about this, if it were your choice?” Zhar this time.

She pushed her fear and suffering aside and straightened, a small smile flickered on Vrook and Vandar’s faces, as if the Nacinta they recognised from Coruscant had suddenly appeared before them again. She gave them a determined look. “We make sure she lives. If most of her mind is gone as Bastila says then we don’t restore it. She can live as an amnesic among us so we can gather what information she retains and monitor her for signs of her returning to the Dark.”

“Amusing, that is. Death, the preferred vengeance of a Sith is; but life, the preferred vengeance of Jedi is.” chuckled Vandar.

“It is death, in a way. If we don’t restore her then she will not be Darth Revan any more – the Sith Lord dies here. The only difference is someone new is born in her place. Only… when I was being tortured the Sith operative told me that he thought that Jedi always lie… There would be a lot of lies and half-truths if we were to let her live.” _Truth._

“Think of that, what do you?”

“I think… it’s like a law officer going undercover to gain information to prosecute a criminal. Jedi lie to protect themselves and others when they are on covert operations, not for personal gain but to achieve the greater good. I suppose this would be like a covert operation, sort of in reverse.” _Truth._

“We will consider what your suggestion. For now, we need to properly stabilise this one. Please return to us tomorrow morning.” Vrook gave a brief nod of dismissal.

In the morning the news Nacinta had hoped for was given by Vrook. “Bastila is a Padawan, and does not have the benefit of your years in resisting the Dark. A Jedi is always learning, always seeking to improve. Although you typically maintain good control over your emotions, your recent ordeal briefly took that control from you. We set you a task to greater test your emotional control, then. You will be the minder of Darth Revan in her rebirth. We trust you will commit to this task all of the mindfulness it requires, and be flexible. She is expected to wake up tomorrow. What to expect after that, we do not know. When Bastila is ready, however, you will then take Revan to her.”

She was so very practiced at keeping emotions under control, the relief was swept away before it could be registered by any Master.


	12. Deceptive (Saraea awakens to find Nacinta)

As Revan awoke Nacinta watched as briefly as a word formed on her lips and faded into nothingness. “Vish…”

 _…Vitiate?_ She could only guess at the meaning of the word which would supposedly give Darth Malak pause. Nacinta was not able to access the archives on Dantooine to see if the Jedi knew of it as the archives were restricted to Masters. When Revan opened her eyes Nacinta set to work. “Bastila wished she could have been here herself to apologise,” _not true, but Bastila needs to come to terms with it later anyway_ “but you know how important it is she return to the fleet.”

“Bastila? Do I… know that person?” Revan slowly sat up, rubbing the back of her head, taking stock of her surroundings. “And for that matter do I know you, or where this is?”

“I suppose you’d not met Bastila until our last mission, so that’s understandable. And you’ve been unconscious for several days since that explosion on the Bridge, so not knowing where you are would be understandable too.” _All technically true._ “But the fact that you’ve forgotten me? Well, that’s unforgivable!” _Not true, lightyears from the worst thing Revan’s ever done, and even then, a Jedi should be able to forgive._ She put on a reassuring smile and maintained eye contact with the woman in her care.

Revan strained to remember, but everything just came up… nothing? Not quite nothing, obviously she could speak… ‘Galactic Basic’, and… several other languages too… more languages the more she thought about it. As for the memories of the woman in front of her was, there was… still nothing. “I’m so sorry but really I don’t remember you at all right now.”

“That’s alright, I’m sure things will come back in time, Saraea” _Not a lie, but a hope, for some things and not others._

“Saraea? That’s… my name?”

“Saraea Degan. A veritable wizard with all things computers and gadgets. You really didn’t shirk on your studies after leaving the Order. Jedi aren’t as good with technology, so naturally you volunteered as the Masters were assembling Bastila’s strike team. That ache you no doubt feel at the back of your head was from our participation in the strike on Darth Revan’s flagship, the Relentless. Her apprentice Darth Malak fired while we were all on the Bridge hoping to take us all out in one go. You were up there trying to get the launch codes to allow our shuttle to leave. We wouldn’t have gotten off the ship without your help. Unfortunately, we didn’t manage to capture Darth Revan. She was injured too badly by the explosion and lost her life even though Bastila tried to save her. Then we realised you had been caught in it too, and Bastila manage to preserve the flicker of your life that was just hanging on. She saved your life, but regrets putting you in that situation in the first place, and that the mission required her to prioritise the life of a Sith Lord above yours. That’s why she wanted to be here to apologise to you herself, but now as then, duty calls.” _Scattered truths and half-truths mixed with complete fabrication._ “But do you remember any of that?”

“No. I… I was a Jedi?”

“Not exactly. We were in the creche together on Coruscant, but although you are Force sensitive, control over the Force never really manifested. That, combined with your interest in technology and machinery, well… none of the Knights chose you to be their Padawan.” _Half-truth, truth, then utter lies, but the Force sensitive cover gives some wriggle-room. Force-null now? Blame it on the accident. Force adept? Blame it on Bastila. Force sensitive? No need for any further explanation._

“Oh.” She looked a little dejected.

“But we stayed friends, at least.”

“I suppose that’s something.”

*

As the weeks rolled by on Dantooine ‘to facilitate Saraea’s recovery’, Nacinta dutifully updated the Masters on all of the details of a life she’d never lived, and records were adjusted to provide evidence to its veracity if challenged. Bastila felt almost ready to be in proximity to Saraea, to try and draw out the hidden memories. She didn’t actually want to see her, perhaps it would be enough to be on the same ship.

“If I really wanted to join the Navy why didn’t I do it before now?”

“You were too busy saving my arse. In all seriousness I did rely on your help for some of my missions.” _Half-true._

“So… do you owe me a life debt?”

Nacinta stared the woman straight in the face. “Yes.” _The truest thing I’ve said in days._

“Nice. Don’t worry my friend, I won’t abuse my power over you.”

“Ha ha… Really, though you left the Order you never wandered too far away. You didn’t join in the previous war because you followed the caution urged by the Council.” _So untrue it was almost comical._ “But this war is different, you can use your skills to serve the Republic alongside us. I am to join the team on Endar Spire soon, I’m sure I could call in some favours and have you assigned there with me.”

“Then I think I would like that.”

Master Zhar called in a favour from Admiral Forn Dodona for Saraea to be accepted into comms operator training on Coruscant. “She’s very capable, Admiral, and has already worked with the Jedi on a number of occasions. I trust despite her amnesia she will pick it up with ease.”

“Very well. Any particular reason you want her on board the Endar Spire once she’s through?”

“We’re hoping her recovery will be hastened by being around those she is already familiar with, but we cannot keep Jedi from assisting the war effort just for that. Ms Degan is happy to serve on the front line in order to assist with her recovery.”

“I hope she appreciates the irony of that.”


	13. Restless (Saraea awakens to find ghosts)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I keep going to the river to pray  
> 'Cause I need something that can wash out the pain  
> And at most  
> I'm sleeping all these demons away  
> But your ghost, the ghost of you  
> It keeps me awake  
> \- Ella Henderson

On her first night on the Endar Spire Saraea awoke in a cold sweat, an intense dread brewing in her stomach. Her particularly vivid dream didn’t fade as quickly as dreams normally should. In it she had been observing a battle on the deck of a Sith Interdictor-class ship. Nacinta had been there. Bastila had been there, she was sure of it, even though she was yet to meet the Jedi who saved her life. She nurtured a small hope that it had been a returning memory. The vantage point of it made sense since she had supposedly been at a computer terminal near the front at the time. But if it were that simple why did she have this feeling as if the ghosts of the vengeful dead swirled around her, wailing in their impotent revenge?

She headed for this gym after unsuccessfully attempting to return to sleep. Although she had a non-combat role, Nacinta encouraged her to re-learn and maintain combat skills. “The Sith don’t care what your job entails, only the colour of your uniform.”

There were very few in the gym at this time. She wandered over to the sparring mats where a Mirialan practiced swinging a wooden staff with the utmost grace and poise despite having his eyes closed. She watched a grin creep up onto his face before suddenly he lunged at her, staff swing stopped short just centimetres from her ear.

He opened his eyes. “Good evening, soldier. Not many in the gym this hour. Up for some sparring?”

“You’re a Jedi.”

“Korunn.” he nodded in confirmation.

“Oh! Nacinta’s Padawan.”

“You know my master?”

“Yes. Sorry, my name is Saraea. It’s nice to meet you.”

“You’re Saraea? I hear you’re good in a fight. Shall we put that to the test?” He casually tossed her a staff and slipped into a stance from Niman.

“Moderation, not Contention? This is single combat.” Her own question surprised her.

Korunn laughed. “You’ve been hanging around my master too much. Makashii is for opponents who wield lightsabers, which you are not.”

“Your loss.” She reflexively slipped into Juyo, supposing she really must have spent too much time around Nacinta before the accident if she knew lightsaber forms.

She took a while to shake off the sleep and get into the fight, but soon her speed and power picked up. Although he parried the first blows easily, Korunn had to start relying increasingly on reflex to block her strikes. When she had fully warmed up, he began losing ground and was pushed off the mats. He had to admire this woman’s skill, but how in the galaxy was a non-Jedi so proficient? The next round he matched her Juyo. He managed to hang on only a few minutes before coming off the mat again.

He watched her drag a hand down her face tiredly.

“Something wrong?”

“Yeah. Did Nacinta tell you I lost my memories in an accident on our last mission?”

“Something like that, yes. She said if I met you, I wasn’t to open my mind to you in case I was disturbed by the absence you feel.”

“Fair enough. I don’t normally go for three a.m. sparring sessions, but I think being somewhere unfamiliar has disturbed me. I had a nightmare about the accident, and couldn’t get to sleep afterwards.”

“Something you want to share?”

Saraea noted the others in the gym and shook her head. “It’s above my security clearance to talk about.”

“Alright. Well I do usually go for three a.m. gym sessions, so you know where to find me if you want to talk. But if it’s just the unfamiliarity of the ship, maybe you’ll sleep better this evening?”

She nodded her thanks before lumbering back to shower. It was too late to try and get any sleep.

The next night, rather than try to withstand the haunted feeling on her own she plodded straight to the gym, and sighed in relief as Korunn was there. He was already grinning as she walked into the room.

“I could sense you in the corridor. Do you want to spar again?” She did. He was prepared for her this time, and managed to keep her evenly matched for longer, but she still ended up knocking him backwards to the floor.

She sat down next to him. “Another nightmare, or rather the same one. And when I wake up it feels like angry spirits are clawing at me, trying to make me suffer. Maybe it’s the dead Sith upset that I lived and they didn’t?”

Korunn tried a reassuring smile. “Maybe you’ll dream of better memories this evening?”

She didn’t. She spent the next week sparring Korunn, increasingly frustrated and sleep deprived. He wanted to chalk up his improvement to his own practice, but he worried it was due more to her suffering. She'd spent six months in training separated from Nacinta, and was finally on the same ship, but Nacinta didn’t have time for her.

“I’ve told Nacinta about it. We’re leaving to patrol the Outer Rim today, so she’s going to be even busier, but I promise she is trying to find some time to come and see you.” He kept practicing that reassuring smile because he had little else to offer.

Having been forbidden from opening his mind to hers, he couldn’t simply fish for a happier memory, so there was no point in giving her false hope by mentioning it. He’d asked Nacinta to reconsider the ban, but she denied his request. “I know her better, there’s less of a chance of causing more damage if I do it. She will just have to be patient.” He resolved to offer her patient companionship instead.

“Nacinta wanted me to keep my combat skills up. Maybe I’m subconsciously hanging on to the nightmare as an excuse to have a good fight?” she joked sadly. 

“Funny, she wanted the same thing of me.”


End file.
